‘And it just sat there?’
‘May might’ve got it down a few times–just for a joke at chucking-out time. Seemed to do the trick.’
‘I’m sure it did,’ Rebus said.
Cameron was giving the bar a final look-over. ‘Probably see you in the morning, then. May does us bacon rolls before we get the place ready for opening. Wonder if we’ll be as busy.’
‘The media circus will move on,’ Rebus stated.
‘Hopefully not for a day or two, though.’ Cameron gave a wave as he disappeared through the doorway, just as May Collins came back. She tucked a loose strand of hair back behind one ear.
‘A nightcap, I think,’ she said, placing a glass under one of the whisky optics. ‘I’m hoping you’ll join me.’
‘I shouldn’t.’
‘Not planning on driving anywhere, are you?’
‘It’s a health thing. I’ve got COPD.’
‘Sorry to hear that.’
‘Ach, go on then.’
They sat side by side on two of the high stools, clinked glasses before sipping. The silence settled around them, broken only by the hum of the glasswasher and the occasional voice outside.
‘She’ll come round, you know,’ Collins said eventually. ‘Samantha, I mean.’
‘Maybe.’
‘You’re her dad–I doubt she can stay mad at you. But right now she needs someone to blame, and you’re it.’
‘Should I be lying on a couch or something?’ Rebus said, remembering that Samantha had had a similar question for Robin Creasey.
‘Doesn’t take a psychologist, just someone who’s had plenty fallings-out with their own dad.’
‘Cameron told me your dad used to run this place.’
‘In later years, yes. His first wife died and he married my mum–Betsy, her name was. He found it harder and harder after Mum died.’
‘So you stepped in?’
‘With my husband Billy. Then he got the cancer and that was that.’ She took in her surroundings. ‘Not sure this was ever what I really wanted, but it was here and Dad needed me.’
‘Pretty sure I’m not what Samantha needs.’
‘Maybe not now, but…’
‘Thing is, May, I always enjoyed my job too much. My wife used to say it was like I was having an affair–staying out late, not home most weekends. And even when I did go home, the cases would still be in here.’ He tapped his forehead. ‘And it wasn’t as if I could share any of it. No way I was going to introduce Rhona and Sammy to that world.’
‘Maybe that was your mistake then–they didn’t need a knight protecting them; Rhona needed a husband and Samantha a father, end of.’ She drained her glass and went for a refill, Rebus declining the offer. He watched her at her chosen optic.
‘Cameron was telling me about the gun,’ Rebus said.
‘Oh aye?’
‘You got rid of it?’
‘Not quite.’ She settled on her stool again. ‘It went walkies.’
‘Someone stole it?’
Collins shrugged. ‘At first I thought Dad must have it, but he didn’t. It’s rusted to buggery, though, so there’s nothing to worry about.’
‘But you reported it?’
‘It’ll turn up. Soon as one of the kids starts waving it about, I’ll know.’
‘How long ago was this?’
‘Month or so.’
‘What does your dad think?’
She took a sip before answering. ‘He’s surprised I hung onto it as long as I did.’
‘It dates back to the war?’
‘As far as I know.’
‘But your dad was a POW, right.’
‘He was an internee, yes.’
‘So he wouldn’t have had a gun.’
‘He found it washed ashore sometime in the fifties, so the story goes.’ She put her glass down. ‘What’s this about, John?’
‘Keith was passionate about Camp 1033. He’d even slept there a few nights. Whoever killed him probably took the contents of his satchel–meaning his research. I’m told he interviewed your father as well as you and a few other survivors, but there’s no sign of any of that among the stuff in his garage.’
Collins considered this. ‘You want to talk to Dad?’
‘And the others, if possible.’
‘I could invite them round.’ She glanced up at the clock. ‘Phone them in the morning, see if it can happen before opening time. What do you say?’
‘I say thank you.’
‘You really think it’ll help?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘Will the police want to talk to them too?’
‘If they’re being thorough.’
‘You don’t sound convinced.’
‘Creasey seems competent enough, but I know how these things work–they won’t all be like him.’
‘Well, we’ll see what happens tomorrow. For tonight, I’m just glad I’ve got a knight staying under my roof.’
‘Despite his creaking armour?’
‘Not forgetting his clapped-out steed.’ Collins couldn’t hide the fatigue as she slid off the stool. ‘Let’s put the lights out and head up.’
‘You probably knew Keith a lot better than I did. In truth, I hardly knew him at all. What was he like?’
‘He was quiet, but he had personality. Everyone loved him, and you could see he doted on Carrie.’
‘When Samantha started seeing Jess Hawkins, that must have hurt. Do you really think they patched things up? Properly, I mean?’
‘They seemed all right.’ Collins considered for a moment. ‘I suppose we all tiptoed around it.’
‘There was never any reckoning between Keith and Hawkins?’
‘Maybe some words, but not blows as far as I know.’
‘Samantha told me they only met the once. Sounded like that was well before the falling-out.’
‘Maybe I’m wrong then.’
‘You know he found out about Hawkins from an anonymous note–any thoughts on who would do something like that?’
‘I don’t like the idea that anybody would do that.’ She made eye contact with Rebus. ‘If you’re asking me whether Keith might have bottled his feelings up–it’s entirely possible. I’m sure it rankled that the whole village knew. Must have gnawed away at him, wondering why none of them had said anything. He was definitely a bit more withdrawn afterwards.’
‘And putting all his efforts into Camp 1033…’ Rebus’s phone alerted him to an incoming text.
‘Samantha?’ Collins enquired.
‘Edinburgh,’ Rebus corrected her. ‘I might just phone back before I head upstairs.’ He thought of something. ‘Actually, can I use the computer in the office?’ John Neilson had come good a couple of hours back, mailing various links to internet sites. Rebus had checked his emails on his
